


than you can shake a rattle at

by destroyallmonsters



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kidfic, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, more characters will be appearing in the next chapters, the three men and a baby fic these soft boys deserve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destroyallmonsters/pseuds/destroyallmonsters
Summary: “It’s a… a baby,” Steve says, completely marveled. “An actual fucking baby.”Sam’s eyes widen, then bulge. “Someone left a baby on our doorstep.”“So we put it back, right? It’s not ours.” Bucky shrugs.Steve and Sam look at him like he’s… well. Not killed someone. That analogy would be tasteless.





	1. Chapter 1

Sleep isn’t something that Steve’s body has been fond of in recent weeks. Exhaustion lingers in his limbs, his eyes cloudy, and yet he turns and tosses with groans of indignance from the bed and his partners. God, he just wants to sleep.

It’s not that he  _ needs  _ more sleep. There’s not much to do around the brownstone besides jogging right now, and it’s the weekend, so he doesn’t have to prepare for his art classes. He just hates lying there, being forced to think. Think about Peggy. Tony. Wanda. Rhodes. Wanda’s shell shock, Rhodes’ paralyzed legs. He hates being idle. Hates thinking.

He’s on his side, front to Bucky’s back, with Sam on Bucky’s other side. The room is dark; only a sliver of moonlight laying a strip down onto the sheets. Steve sputters when a lock of Bucky’s hair lands on his lip and he stifles a sneeze. Bucky just had to like being in the middle. At least he didn’t complain about the dip in the bed like Sam did when he wanted to be flanked by supersoldiers.

Steve curls an arm around Bucky’s soft middle and pulls him close. Bucky makes a protesting noise initially, and Steve assumes Bucky’s spooned up against Sam. Sam doesn’t make a sound. Bucky’s got his heated blanket curled around his shoulders to keep his body temperature from dropping in the autumn chill. Sam shifts, turning over, to snuggle up to Bucky. Pressing his lips to the nape of Bucky’s neck, solid, Steve shuts his eyes, awaiting black to wash over him.

A horrible screech sounds from outside the front door. Sam and Bucky both jolt upward, Bucky brandishing a pocket knife in his hand that Steve has no goddamn idea where he’d gotten, and Sam’s chest heaving and already beading sweat. Steve raises a finger, attempting to ease them, or at least to keep them from making noise lest the scream sounds again.

And it does. Even with Steve’s super hearing, he can’t make out what the gurgled cry is coming from.

“Someone oughta turn that thing off,” Bucky slurs once his hypervigilance wears away. He stashes the knife under his pillow.

“What the fuck is that?” Sam’s still on edge, his eyes darting back and forth in the dark.

Steve doesn’t reply, but he can feel his heart racing; the scream caught him off guard just as much as it did his partners. He nods to them as he slips out of bed, clad only in his boxer briefs, and tip toes down the stairs. No longer being Captain America has obviously led him out of practice; he almost trips on one of Sam’s bird antiquities. He takes a deep, long breath, peers through the peephole in the door.

There’s no one there, but there’s a lone red weaved basket on the steps. 

Steve opens the door a crack and peers outside. The street is completely quiet, no cars, with only street lights illuminating the pitch darkness. It’s as though the basket had appeared out of thin air.

“What is it?” Bucky appears behind him, looking defensive yet somewhat timid, like a bristling mouse. He’s got the knife in his hand again. Sam puts a hand on Bucky’s bum shoulder.

“Man, you’ve gotta learn to put that thing away,” Sam says, but he looks just as frightened as Bucky.

“Guys, it’s alright,” Steve assures them. Bucky lowers the knife and Sam inches forward. Steve opens the door more before Bucky stops him.

“Have some humility.” Steve remembers he’s practically naked and nods hurriedly before letting Bucky take a look outside. Bucky, whom unlike Steve prefers wearing a shirt to bed, peers out and lets out a gasp. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“What? What is it?” Sam cranes his neck past Steve’s shoulder to get a better look. 

Bucky crouches down, braces the basket to his chest and lifts it up. He’s just about to bring it into the brownstone when the basket lets out a wail and startles Bucky to the point of him nearly dropping the basket. Steve manages to catch the cargo in time before it slips out of Bucky’s one-armed hold.

“It’s a… a baby,” Steve says, completely marveled. “An actual fucking baby.”

Sam’s eyes widen, then bulge. “Someone left a baby on our doorstep.”

“So we put it back, right? It’s not ours.” Bucky shrugs.

Steve and Sam look at him like he’s… well. Not killed someone. That analogy would be tasteless, Steve realizes.

“I’m just joking, Jesus.” Bucky shoulders his way past Steve to look into the basket, which Sam is now holding.

Sam scoffs. “It’s really hard to tell when you’re making a joke, Barnes.”

Bucky makes a face at him, then pulls back the downy blankets filling the basket. Steve and Sam look in, too: it’s a baby, alright. Steve turns on the dim hallway light to really get a look at it. Its eyes are pinched shut as it lets out another scream. It’s dressed in a fleece purple onesie, brown fingers curled into its palms. Its curly black hair sticks out all over the top of its head. Steve’s heart seizes when its eyes open, looking rich and deep into Steve’s gaze. It whimpers before going quiet. Steve looks up. Bucky’s face is solemn as ever, somewhat calculating, but his eyes are soft around the edges. Sam, however, looks disgruntled. Steve has no idea why; he does great around his young nephew. Steve doesn’t question it. The baby makes eye contact with Bucky and screams its lungs out. Bucky not only appears confused, but as though his feelings are hurt.

“She knows conniving assholes who drink the last beer when she sees them,” Sam chuckles.

“Laugh riot,” Bucky grumbles. “Wait, how do you know it’s a girl?”

Sam makes an ‘I-don’t-know’ noise. “Purple makes me think of girls because of societal stereotypes?”

“It’s more of an indigo.” Bucky upturns his chin.

“No, it’s purple.”

“Guys.” Now was  _ not  _ the time for one of Sam and Bucky’s bickering sessions. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just-- sex the baby, alright?”

Sam carefully handles the baby’s bottom to undo the onesie. The baby whimpers, but it doesn’t cry, thank god. Sam hums while he checks the sex of the baby. “Ha-ha! I was right. She’s a girl.”

Bucky immediately smiles and does an odd little wiggle at that. Steve can’t help but smile, too. He wonders if Bucky’s thinking the same thing: Becca. Bucky’s baby sister had passed not but a year before Bucky’s identity as the Winter Soldier went public. He never got to see Rebecca Barnes-Proctor as a ninety-three year old before she had passed away from heart failure.

“So… what now?” Bucky asks. He keeps eyeballing the baby girl, then looking to Sam, then looking at the baby girl.

Steve clears his throat. “Well,” Steve begins. “It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”

Bucky’s now making a grabby-hand at the baby. Sam’s shaking his head no. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “The Tower had tons of babies being dropped off at the door. Even JARVIS found it kinda disturbing.”

“Even before Sam came along, this was kind of a popular thing to do, I guess. Well. Not popular. But you know what I mean, Buck.” Steve waves a hand.

Sam nods. “Lot of people don’t trust the cops or fire men to take the baby to the right place. Don’t blame ‘em.”

“But you guys aren’t Avengers anymore. In fact, the fact that people know I live here would be enough to scare them all away.” Bucky scratches the back of his neck. Steve’s kind of heartbroken.

Before Sam or Steve can respond, the baby shrieks.

“Oh, right. We have a fucking baby,” Sam says. “Uh. Formula. Diapers. We need those. Fuck.”

Steve looks around. Not that they have any of that stuff in the house, even if Bucky and Sam do act like children around each other sometimes. “You think there’s a convenience store open at this hour?”

“Maybe. But it’s four in the morning,” Sam responds. “What’re the safe haven laws around here?”

Bucky walks into the kitchen, then comes back, holding what seems to be a phone in his hand.

“Bucky, where the hell did you get a Samsung?” Sam peers over.

Bucky makes like he wants to raise a finger at Sam, but… well. “I’m texting T’Challa. It’s noon where he is. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

“Bucky, first of all, T’Challa’s never even had a kid. Second, he  _ gave you his number? _ ” Steve is bewildered. When Sam and Steve came to pick Bucky up from Birnin Zana, T’Challa curtly escorted them to the airport, and shut his doors. They haven’t spoken to him since, and T’Challa seems frankly disinterested in doing so.

Bucky nods, deep in his texting. He even gives a little laugh. “He said we’re friends and he’s welcome to text me any time. Well, as long as I keep an eye on the news.”

“You’re friends with the King of Wakanda,” Sam confirms, flabbergasted. “The same guy who nearly clawed out your throat.”

“He was lonely, I was lonely; after cryo, we started talking. He’s a funny guy.”

‘The King of Wakanda is a funny guy,” Sam confirms again.

The baby gives a loud cry. Steve flaps his hands and asks urgently, “Buck, has T’Challa said anything of use yet?”

Bucky tucks the phone into his sweatpants pocket. “He said to examine the basket to see if the parent--he didn’t say ‘mother,’ progressive guy--left anything with the kid. Note, medications, bottle, anything.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s definitely useful. We definitely wouldn’t have figured that out.” Sam rolls his eyes and with ease, scoops the baby into his arms. Steve’s seen him handle Jody just like that, even if Jody’s quite a bit older. It warms Steve’s fast-beating heart. “Hey, sweetie pie. You’re so cute, aren’tcha?”

The baby gives a little giggle and a big smile. Bucky looks positively delighted. “Can I hold her next?”

“I dunno, man, I don’t think she likes you very much.” Sam’s obviously joking, but Bucky’s shoulder sags. “Alright, alright, let’s just check out the basket first.”

Steve removes the soft downy blanket from the basket, and beneath it is a single binder paper note, crumpled and ripped at the edges. He takes it out and unfolds it.

_ To Captain America and Falcon _

_ I don’t know where else to turn. I simply can’t afford to take care of my dear Sasha anymore, and the police scare me to death. I don’t trust the firemen either. I’m putting her life in the hands of people who saved my own life in Harlem two years ago. Do you remember that?  _

_ I don’t think you’ll remember me, but that’s alright. I’m not expecting you to adopt her, but if possible, see if any local orphanages will take her in. _

_ She’s two months old and she doesn’t have any known health problems. She’s a cuddlebug. She can’t do without her favorite blanket, so always keep it with her. _

_ God bless you, _

_ Alissa _

_ PS. If he is still living with you, tell Mr. Barnes that he is a fine looking man. _

There’s a long silence before Bucky says, “If you write her back, tell her I’m gay and therefore not interested.”

Steve and Sam glare at him; just because he has a lack of social cues doesn’t mean he doesn’t know that was a bit tasteless. Bucky gets the message and shrinks back.

Sam sighs. “I’m gonna run to the CVS and grab some stuff. She doesn’t smell like she’s soiled her diaper yet, so we should be good for a little while.”

He lays the baby--Sasha--back in her blanketed basket and grabs his keys. He pauses, then blows a kiss to Steve and Bucky. The supersoldiers smile as he heads out the door.

“Well,” Steve says, “I certainly wasn’t expecting this.”

“You damn Avengers go through so much,” Bucky replies. His body language is languid, and his eyes are hooded. Steve feels a pang. Bucky’s brain damage requires him to sleep for hours on end, hopefully with no interruption. Steve’s surprised Bucky hasn’t gotten irritable, let alone vocalized how tired he is.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve tells him with a soft smile. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Sam’ll be back before we know it.”

Bucky glances at him, then the door, a little paranoid, then nods. “If anything goes wrong, wake me up.”

“Everything will be fine, Buck.” The final reassurance seems to calm Bucky, and he gets up and heads toward the bedroom. There’s the sound of a toe hitting a bird antiquity and Bucky curses and limps away.

Steve’s left alone with Sasha now. She utters the occasional whimper, but she, too, looks exhausted, her eyes closed. The more Steve looks at her, the more his heart sinks. He hasn’t thought about the plans he’d wanted to express to Peggy since her passing. They’d get married. Have a kid or two. Settle down. Steve would retire from military service and raise their sons or daughters while Peggy worked to found SHIELD. 

Steve wonders if he, Sam and Bucky were magically able to keep their newfound… well, Steve definitely didn’t think of her as a burden, or a problem, but. What would their family even look like? Sam seems far too stressed from the incident at the Raft to even think about having a child, and Bucky…

“Looks like you’re gonna be staying with us for a little while, Sasha.” Steve draws his knuckles over the baby’s cheek. Sasha makes a sleepy noise.

Steve’s eyes grow more and more hooded. Before he knows it, black washes over his vision, hand still in the basket, curled around Sasha’s cheek.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Steve awakens to bright, harsh morning light beaming down on his face. He scrunches his nose, stirs. He assumes from the uncomfortable position he’d been sleeping in and the tiny sleeping area that he’s on the living room couch. He’s above rousing just yet, though. He hasn’t slept properly for days. Steve curls up as best he can on the sofa and buries his face in the nearest pillow. He lets out a breathy, sleepy sigh.

A screech reminds him that it’s time to wake up.

It hadn’t crossed Steve’s dreaming mind that they still had Sasha in their care. Steve blinks and rises from the couch, winces at a bad kink in his neck, and pads toward where the screaming is coming from. His ears perk at the thumping of footsteps back and forth in the kitchen area.

“Sam?” Steve says as he enters the kitchen. “Buck?”

It’s only Sam in the kitchen, pacing around the red basket that’s currently perched on the table. Tiny, purple-clad arms reach for the heavens beyond the basket; Sasha’s screaming her lungs out. Sam’s beading sweat down his brow and he’s biting his knuckles, frantically typing on his phone.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Sam says. “Shitshitshit. Come on, come on.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve asks, quirking a brow. He walks up to Sasha and checks her out. Aside from her wailing, everything seems to be okay.

“I, uh, I don’t know what to do.” Sam’s wild-eyed. “She’s been crying since you and Buck went out like lights. I’ve been doing everything I can but she won’t stop. I’m so fucking tired, Steve.”

“You don’t know how to calm down a crying baby?” Didn’t Sam have nieces and nephews? Steve reaches back into the recesses of his mind. Indeed Sam does.

Sam looks at him. “Do  _ you _ ?”

Steve blushes, licks his lips. “Never had. The chance.”

Sam nods, makes a note of that. “Okay. Okay.”

Wait, Steve realizes. He and Sam may not know how to calm Sasha down, but they might know someone who does. “Can you see if Bucky can do it?”

“I am not waking up James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Okay,” Steve concedes. Bucky can be a real monster in the morning. “I’ll do it, then. Buck had a baby sister he was always bottlefeeding and stuff. Y’know, since his mom wasn’t in the picture.”

“I read the biographies, Steve.” Sam rocks the basket a little, but that only exacerbates Sasha. Sam flinches. Steve makes to walk down the hall, but Sam stops him. “Wait. Steve… what if he doesn’t  _ remember  _ how?”

Steve’s heart sinks to his belly. Fuck. Bucky has been doing such an amazing job recovering things like muscle memory, Steve didn’t even realize their partner still had significant memory loss. Maybe Steve was still in denial about it. That seemed likely enough.

“Sasha’s gonna ruin her vocal chords if she keeps crying,” Steve says, giving a crooked smile, “We gotta do something.”

Sam gives a hearty sigh. “Go wake him up. If he tries to attack you, I’ll get the broom.”

“Noted.” Steve gives Sam a kiss on the forehead before walking to the bedroom and opening the door as slowly as possible. Bucky’s no more than a lump under the covers, facing the door, with only his strewn-out hair and a lone arm giving himself away.

There’s a specific method that Steve and Sam have to use to wake up their hyper-vigilant, easily distressed partner. Steve sits down, gently, on the bed next to Bucky. Steve makes sure not to lay a hand on him. He taps his fingers on the comforter just hard enough to make some noise.

“Buck,” Steve says, a little firm, and that’s enough to make Bucky rouse.

“Mrrgh,” Bucky says back. He stirs under the covers and lifts his head, hair stringy across his forehead. “What.”

Steve chuckles. “Morning to you, too, jerk.”

“Where’s Sam.” It disappoints Steve to know Bucky’s accent has completely gone due to his trauma, but in the morning, he sounds even more mechanical.

“In the kitchen. Me and him can’t make Sasha stop crying, so, um--”

“The baby. The baby. Fuck, shit, the baby.” Bucky scrambles up, tries to balance himself on two arms, only to forget he only has one and falls back down, his head hitting the pillow. He sighs pathetically.

“She’s safe, don’t worry,” Steve assures him, “Just--” A screech from down the hall interrupts him. “--crying. A lot.”

Bucky’s face is buried in the pillow. “Let me guess, you want me to save the day because you guys are too stupid to know how to calm down a baby.”

“Are not--” Steve sputters, flustered, then he sighs. “Okay, maybe. Yes.”

Bucky slowly rises from the imprint he’s made in his pillow. He hops out of bed with a hard  _ thump  _ (Steve is sure that Bucky’s unaware of his own weight sometimes) and waves at Steve to follow. When they get to the kitchen, Sam looks like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Quite frankly, Sasha does, too.

Bucky gives Sam a quick good morning kiss. Sam lurches back. “ _ Fuck _ , your breath is disgusting.”

“Oh, gee whiz, I wonder why.” Bucky rolls his eyes while padding over to Sasha. “Seriously? You haven’t tried  _ anything _ ?”

“Of course I have!” Sam exclaims. He stops, then whispers, “Of course I have.”

“Swaddling?”

“Yes.”

“White noise?”

“Y-yeah.”

Bucky twitches his nose. “You must suck at this, then.”

“Up yours, Barnes!” Sam exclaims again. Steve rubs Sam’s back assuringly. Admittedly, Sam  _ had  _ to suck at this if he couldn’t get Sasha to calm down by now.

They both watch as Bucky examines Sarah for a moment. He surveys her, then turns to the blankets. He bundles Sasha in the downy fleece, then turns her on her side. Steve can feel Sam’s muscles tensing under his hand.

“Don’t turn her over like that,” Sam says. “It’s dangerous.”

Bucky looks at him with his brow creased. “That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Maybe in  _ your  _ day, but--”

“I know what I’m doing, Samuel.” Bucky says, and he looks into Steve and Sam’s eyes, “Just trust me.”

Sam doesn’t look calmed, so Steve says, “It’ll be alright.” Steve doesn’t have a ton of experience being the bigger person in situations quite like this.

Bucky lifts Sasha up with his single arm, and Sasha makes a noise, but as soon as he tucks the swaddled baby against the crook of his bicep and rocks her back and forth, hushing her softly, her cries die down. Her face is smushed against his torso, but that seems to calm her even further.

Sam makes a squawking sound before hushing himself with a slap against his mouth. “ _ How _ ?”

“It’s the position,” Bucky says with a soft voice. “Sometimes it helps to have the baby held like this against you. It makes ‘em feel safer.”

“I can’t imagine you freaking out and stomping all over the place helped.” Steve gives a shy smile to Sam.

Sam groans. “You’re supposed to side with me.” But he doesn’t complain more than that. In fact, Sam looks downright smitten with Bucky right now. “Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky smiles, looking down at the baby. With a pang Steve notices that it’s the exact same look on his face when he used to hold Becca. 

Sam pulls up a chair for Bucky to sit in. Bucky grins his sweet grin and gently sits, Sasha in tow. He rocks her back and forth with finesse. Eventually, her whimpers die down, and she goes limp in his arm. Sam looks like he’s about to cry. He rests his palms on Bucky’s shoulders, rubbing them gently. God, Bucky and Sam make a picture, Steve thinks to himself.

Steve’s hearing picks up the familiar ping of his phone down the hall. He excuses himself to go get it, just in case. Steve can’t help but be a little paranoid, even if all the legal bull has been settled. 

Taking the phone off the power socket, he notices it’s all but a text from Natasha.

Nat:  _ hows our favorite dude train _

Steve makes a face as he types, _ Ha-ha. Gross. _

Nat:  _ u know its true i have super polyamory senses _

Nat _ : anyway how are u? everything ok? _

Steve:  _ You won’t believe what happened last night. Someone dropped off a baby on our doorstep. _

Nat:  _ ok buzzfeed _

Nat: _ wait what are you serious? _

Steve:  _ It’s like back at the tower. Someone must have found our address. We’re handling it okay, but... _

Nat: _creepy._ _u want me and sharon to come over? sharon has some old stuff in her apartment_

Steve ponders before replying. Bucky’s not exactly hostile towards Natasha, but he acts defensive around her. Sam would probably love to have them over, though. And Sharon…

Steve:  _ That’d be great. Thanks Nat. _

Nat:  _ be over in an hour _

Steve peers down the hallway. Oh Lord. Steve might not be prepared for this.

\--

Natasha and Sharon arrive with just the right amount of gusto that Steve expected.

“Has James tried to eat the child yet?” Natasha asks, straight-faced. Sharon makes a choking-snorting noise.

“I’ve never done that,” Bucky says, confused and resigned.

“No, Natasha, Jesus,” Steve answers. “No wonder you and Sharon got together. You guys have the weirdest sense of humor.” He tries not to let that sting, but it does, every time. At least he and Sharon are still good friends, and everyone’s happy.

Sharon peeks into Sasha’s makeshift crib. Steve prays she doesn’t call Sasha ugly.

“She’s cute.” Sharon looks up and smiles. Steve blows out a breath.

“Isn’t she?” Bucky smiles back. Sam lets himself grin, too, after he yawns.

Natasha looks in. From what Steve can see where he’s standing, Sasha reaches up and grabs Natasha’s nose. Natasha jumps back, squeaking. “Oh!”

Steve cringes; Natasha’s never been one for small children, to the point of her avoiding them completely, though she’s never told him why. “She’s just playing.”

She looks at him, quirks a brow. “I know.”

The five of them just look at Sasha for a moment, and she looks around at them. Her expression is curious and her big brown eyes sparkle. Steve just wants to eat her up.

“I don’t wanna let her go,” Bucky says. His eyes are somewhat sad.

“Well, we’ll eventually have to, unfortunately.” Sam’s lips quirk.

Sharon takes a breath before saying, “How old is she?”

“The note said she was two months,” Steve replies.

Sharon hums. “Oh, that’s not good. Uh. The safe haven law says the baby has to be under thirty days old.”

“You know that off the top of your head, babe?” Natasha snickers.

“I’m a SHIELD agent. Also, I looked it up before we got here.”

Well, that’s not good, indeed. What if police come knocking at Steve, Sam, and Bucky’s door? Despite the charges being cleared, it’s not like the three of them--well, the five of them, including Natasha and Sharon--are on great terms with authority at the moment. And the mother… Steve shudders. She would be in real hot water. Sasha, too. He, Sam and Bucky should at least be able to choose where Sasha would go. There would be no way they’d be able to raise her as their own.

But god, what if they could? Steve’d be able to live out the life he’d always dreamed of living with Peggy. Or hell, with Bucky and Sam. And now he could. They could be a healthy, happy family, and Sasha would be so healthy and happy with them--

“Earth to Steve,” a voice says and fingers snap in his face.

“Uh,” Steve says. Everyone’s looking at him. Even Sasha, to an extent.  “Sorry.”

“I’m worried about you, man.” Sam says, a little quiet.  _ I could say the same to you,  _ Steve wants to respond, but he doesn’t.

“There’s gotta be some way we can keep her,” Bucky says, “Right? I mean, where else can she go?”

“No offense, Barnes, but I don’t peg you much as a father.” Natasha flips her hair back.

Bucky’s lip curls a bit. “I was a brother.”

“Okay, okay, it’ll be fine.” Sharon metaphorically steps between them, sensing the tenseness in the air. Steve’s neck already feels damp. “I’m sure the cops won’t come storming over just yet. Do you guys know if Sasha’s been reported missing, by any chance? Did the note mention anything about that?”

“Nope.” Sam chews his lips. “Nothing about that. I looked up any Amber Alerts that might be in the area, but there was zip. Must’ve been just her and her mom.”

“I’m sure orphanages are a lot better now than they used to be,” Steve offers, even though deep down he wants to steal Sasha from the crib and run away with her right now.

“Ehhhh,” Natasha says. “Orphanages will always be orphanages. No father or other mother either, huh? Just this Alissa person?”

“That would be correct,” Sam replies.

“Well, I’m sure you guys can’t keep her.” Sharon breaks the truth to them then and there. “I know you three have been trying to keep incognito, but sooner than later your neighbors will be wondering why the three men down the block have a mysterious baby.”

Steve bites his lip. “We could say we adopted her.”

“Think of the moral implications, Steve,” Sharon reasons. “I mean, yeah, Sasha’s cute. She’s really fucking cute. But I don’t think this Alissa woman was planning on you guys keeping her for yourselves.”

Natasha nods. “We’ve been through this situation multiple times, Steve. Except Banner and Stark aren’t here.”

Fuck, they’re right. Sasha wouldn’t be theirs forever. Hell, she probably couldn’t be theirs for more than a few days. Steve’s shoulders sag.

Sharon seems to notice, and pats his back. The touch stings a little.

“I brought a car seat and some formula. My niece is four months,” Sharon says. “Couldn’t find diapers, sorry. You guys should head to the store. Sasha’s gonna need it soon.”

“Damn straight. She came with barely any diapers.” Sam chews the inside of his mouth.

Natasha shuffles in place. “Let us know if you need anything else, okay?”

Steve looks at her and gives a small smile. “We will. We appreciate it, Nat. Sharon.”

Sharon hooks an arm around Natasha’s narrow shoulders. “We wish you well, dude train.”

“Ew,” Bucky and Sam both say.

\--

The trip to the local Walgreens is kind of a disaster, Steve notes-- not that he wasn’t expecting it to be.

Steve bets with all the army and SHIELD back-pay under his mattress that he, Sam, Bucky, and even Sasha look absolutely fucking ridiculous. Steve and Sam are donning their classic cap-with-no logo-and-glasses attire, perfect for any incognito situation, as the New York public is either oblivious to everyone around them or they’re just kind of stupid with faces. Bucky, on the other hand, has his hair in a bun tied at the back of his head, and he actually shaved that morning. Steve tried his best to hold in the urge to kiss him. He wasn’t successful.

“Okay, so,” Sam ogles the piece of paper, aptly titled “BABY SHOPPING LIST” in big, crude block letters that Bucky scrawled, through his pair of actually authentic reading glasses. “Baby wipes, baby lotion, a fuckload of diapers, nipple… wait, nipple cream? Breast pumps? The fuck, Barnes?”

“It was Steve’s idea,” Bucky points to Steve, completely bereft.

Steve sputters, and he makes a bit of a scene. “I will drop you back in Siberia and  _ leave you there! _ ”

“I fucking hate you guys so much,” Sam sighs. He grabs the cart and pushes forward. “I’m leaving. Forever. Bye.”

“Can I have your back-pay?” Bucky asks.

“I was gonna ask that,” Steve says.

“You’re slower than me.” Bucky turns his chin up and fluffs up his bun, which is more like a knob, Steve notes.

Sam speeds back to them. He has some No More Tears (Steve doesn’t believe that for a second) shampoo in the cart.

“I’m not doing all this shopping myself.” Sam quirks his brow in the signature Sam Isn’t Taking Your Shit fashion. Bucky and Steve salute him and follow him down the Baby Care aisle.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Steve says to Sam. Sam mocks the sentence like a child, proving Steve’s point.

Steve grabs a large package of Snuggies. Bucky, having only one hand for use, grabs a thing of pacifiers. He gestures to a colorful octopus-shaped baby toy.

“Should we get it?” Bucky asks. “I mean, it’s cute.”

“We don’t know how long she’s gonna be with us,” Sam points out. “And that damn thing is fifty dollars.”

Bucky pouts and turns his back on it, but not before eyeballing it a last time. Eventually, Steve’s ended up carrying the vast majority of the cargo. Sam’s got more than enough in the cart. Bucky has... his phone in his hand.

“Barnes, help Steve out already,” Sam grouses.

“I have an entire crib under my arm,” Steve helps pathetically. “A whole one.”

“Just a sec,” Bucky says. He shows Steve and Sam his phone, a goofy smile on his face.

T’Challa:  _ She’s cute!!!! _

T’Challa:  _ So her mother is out of the picture? That’s unfortunate. :( _

“He used more than one exclamation point,” Sam says like it’s even more surprising that Bucky’s friends with the ruler of a nation. “And a fucking frownie face.”

“Well, frownie faces are good at expressing sadness,” Steve offers.

Sasha lets out a scream. The three of them do a little dance of panic. Realizing the only pacifiers they have are ones that are still in packaging and thus they cannot use, Bucky swaddles her in her blanket, tucking her up against him again. It seems to do the trick. Steve’s ears burn when he notices people looking at them.  _ Please don’t recognize us, please don’t recognize us… _

A woman walks up to the trio and the baby. Steve’s heart pretty much seizes in fear.

“Oh my gosh,” the woman says, “Is that your baby? You guys are like Three Men and A Baby. It’s so cute.”

“What is that,” Bucky asks, rocking Sasha back and forth. Well, not much asks as much as says with his classic monotone inflection. Steve resists the urge to slap a hand over his mouth.

“Oh. Um, the movie? With Tom Selleck?”

“I’m not much of a movie person.” And Bucky gives quite possibly the scariest fake smile ever smiled by man.

The woman pauses, eyes darting back and forth. She’s just as weirded out as Steve and Sam are. “Uh. Alright. Well, you take care.” 

But before she leaves for good, the high-dressed-for-a-Walgreens woman turns back. She seems to ogle the two incognito supersoldiers and one not-supersoldier.

The woman cocks her head. “You look so familiar,” she says, pointing to Sam. Steve can see Sam’s eyes bulge behind his glasses. The hair on Bucky’s neck raises in alarm and threat.

Sam’s lips squirm before he can utter a, “Do I now?”

“Yes,” the woman says. She puts her finger to her lips, taps it twice, really giving it some thought. Bucky looks like he’s about to have a panic attack. Steve doesn’t feel much better, and he’s sure he doesn’t look it, too.

It’s a few moments before she goes, “Oh, sorry. It’s the beard. You totally reminded me of a guy I used to know. Sorry. Have a good one!”

And off she goes. Bucky blows out a langorious breath and sets Sasha back into her basket in the cart. Sam waddles up to Steve.

“I’m content with staying inside with my Playstation every day for the rest of my life.” Sam is visibly sweating.

“She could’ve been one of your patients,” Steve says, trying to soothe his boyfriend.

“Trust me, you know when they’re a vet. Not some loon trying to get a rise.” Sam shakes himself off and makes for the check-out. Steve and Bucky promptly follow, but not before Sam points at Bucky.

“Never talk in public again,” Sam grits. “I swear, I am sticking a gag in your mouth next time we go to the store.”

“Isn’t that more up  _ your  _ alley?” Steve can’t help saying under his breath.

“It’s up yours, too, so I suggest you put a cork in it,” Sam says.

He’s totally correct, but that’s beside the point.

\--

The rest of the day goes all right by Steve’s standards, in that nothing surprising or willing of an anxiety attack or PTSD-related flashback happens. Sasha’s calmed down by dinner time, which is a relief to all three of the paranoid, hyper-vigilant soldiers living in the tiny brownstone. She’s responded well to the formula they bought and chugs away all throughout the time Bucky’s roasted chicken for the trio to enjoy. 

Most importantly, Steve’s mind isn’t racing like it always seems to be. He’s tuckered out from the hecticness Sasha’s sudden appearance has brought him, Sam, and Bucky. The Accords haven’t popped into his head at all. That has to be the first time since Ross slammed that stack of papers onto the table in his face. Since Steve and Tony argued over Wanda’s autonomy. Since Bucky had his prosthesis stolen from him. Since Sam--

“Dude,” Sam taps Steve on the shoulder. “You okay?” His voice is soft.

“Yeah,” Steve responds, but he’s sure it isn’t crystal clear when it comes out. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“It’s been a day,” Bucky comments from the other side of the bedroom. He’s fixing up the makeshift crib they’d bought, refusing any help, either as an apology for not being too useful earlier, or just because he’s Bucky Barnes and he’s stubborn as all hell. Not that he’s alone in that regard. Steve’s become a lot more self-aware in the past year or so. “Okay. Looks like we’re good to go.”

“Not bad, Barnes,” Sam says, surveying the crib. It does look pretty much like the picture on the box. Steve makes an approving noise. Bucky smiles and ducks his head. They all know Bucky’s been struggling since he lost his arm, though he refused the offer of a Wakandan-Azanian prototype prosthetic.

Sam gets up from the bed, a bundled Sasha in his arms, and he lets her down into the crib. She looks up at the three of them, big brown eyes analyzing faces, and she smiles.

“I wish we could let her sleep with us,” Steve says, a little sad.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees.

“We would obliterate her,” Bucky points out, albeit a bit tastelessly.

But Sam and Steve concede. They get into their big bed, one by one, hearing the familiar croak of the mattress’s springs. Sam’s in the middle this time. They kiss their goodnights, settle in, and turn off the light.

Just when all seems well to Steve, a few hours later, the bed groans in relief as Bucky gets out of bed, and Steve hears a body crumple to the floor beneath them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'MSOSORRY
> 
> this fic is slightly plotless but i guarantee you'll see more of bucky and sam's motivations in the last chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> i am on [twitter.](twitter.com/shillyyshally) cheers!


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